


Room for Two

by WordsInTheAtmosphere



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, hawaii trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsInTheAtmosphere/pseuds/WordsInTheAtmosphere
Summary: The hotel bed is only meant for one, but Akira finds ways to make it work.





	Room for Two

When Mishima invites him to share a hotel room in Hawaii, he doesn't think twice before agreeing. 

It makes sense, after all; he can only room with a guy in his class, and aside from the fact that they are dating, Mishima is the only guy who will talk to him in the first place. Kawakami looks relieved at how quickly he finds a roommate, presumably because she knows just how difficult it is for anyone to want to stay in a room with a guy who has a criminal record. She eyes Mishima briefly before writing their names down on the form, with a little more hurry than is necessary. Perhaps she’s worried that Mishima will change his mind in the time it takes her to register their room, and the thought makes Akira smile. If only she knew.

That's why it comes as a shock to him when he enters the room with Mishima and the reality finally sinks in. It's ironic how he had spent a brief moment reflecting on their relationship and has only now realized that he will indeed be rooming alone with his boyfriend, together, in the dark. The casual way Mishima had asked him to share a room made it feel like it isn't a big deal, but when the door closes behind him the room suddenly turns into a private space for two. He looks at Mishima standing in the small room and his pulse quickens.

It doesn't take long for Mishima to catch on either. At first he mutters about the fatigue from the flight, where they should store their luggage, how small the room is. When he looks at the two beds, he stops in the middle of his sentence and a slow realization dawns on his face. So he, too, hadn't quite realized the full reality of rooming alone with Akira until now. At least they are now on the same page, Akira thinks, and it’s a little reassuring to know that he isn’t the only one thinking about these things.

The sudden silence has become unbearably awkward, and Akira gathers his nerves and stands next to Mishima. "Yuuki," he starts, slow and careful as not to startle, but then Mishima immediately jumps back at the sound of his name.

"Oh, uh," Mishima stammers as he grabs at his pocket, pulling out his phone like he found a lifeline, "by the way, did you know the polls have started for the phansite?"

The topic change doesn't surprise Akira in the slightest, and he lets Mishima tell him in anxiously quick words how the phansite is doing. Mishima seats himself on the other bed, his body rigid and eyes glued to his phone, the words pouring out of him with frazzled energy. Akira listens, chimes in with occasional questions, but when Mishima talks himself into a circle he finally interrupts. 

"Yuuki, that's great to hear. But right now we're on a trip.”

Mishima falls silent then, but his grip doesn't loosen on his phone. Finally he whispers, "I just forgot we will actually be alone. You know, like this."

"Me too," Akira confesses, and Mishima meets his eyes for the first time since they’ve entered the room. They grin shyly at each other, and then burst into quiet laughter. Akira is relieved to see Mishima's body relax, even if only a little.

"Well, shall we sleep? The flight was pretty uncomfortable." Akira climbs into his bed, and Mishima looks relieved at his suggestion. When Mishima is comfortably nestled in his bed, Akira turns off the lights. The room plunges into darkness, but a nervous energy lingers in the air. He stares into the dark, and the silence tells him Mishima is doing the same. 

He isn't the type to let an opportunity slip by him, and this is an opportunity he will not have again. He listens carefully, and when he doesn't hear the telltale signs of sleep from the other side of the room, he takes his chances. "Yuuki," he says tentatively, "is it okay if I join you?"

He hears a slight rustling in response, and when Mishima finally answers his voice is pitched with nervousness. "Uh, like in my bed?"

Akira smiles at the question. "Yes."

"Oh." A few minutes pass by, and just when Akira wonders if his boyfriend has forgotten to answer, "Sure, okay."

His heart is beating hard in his chest now, and he climbs out of his sheets and slips into Mishima's bed. He feels Mishima roll over to make space for him, a fruitless effort since the bed is only meant for one, but Akira slides in anyway, closes the space between them. The small bed forces their bodies to press together, him against Mishima’s back, and he is relieved when Mishima doesn’t flinch at the contact. “May I hold you?” he asks, and it’s a bold question when he has been allowed this much already. Mishima hesitates, his body tensing for a moment before he carefully turns around. Their eyes find each other, adjusted to the unfamiliar darkness of the room.

“Alright,” Mishima says, and he nervously smiles. “But, uh, don’t try anything weird, okay? If you try to tickle me, I’ll kick you straight out of this room.”

“No tickling. It’s a deal,” Akira says in his most solemn tone, and he curls his arms around Mishima’s waist and pulls him close. Mishima fits small and warm against him, and Akira presses his face into Mishima’s hair and breathes in the familiar scent of his shampoo. A few moments later he feels a pair of arms circle him too, shy but sure. They lie wrapped in each other’s warmth, listening to the sounds of their breaths and their own beating hearts. _This is nice,_ Akira thinks, and then once more, aloud. “This is nice.”

Mishima stirs in his arms. “I move in my sleep,” Mishima mumbles, and honestly Akira does not mind even if he ends up being kicked off the bed as long as he can keep holding Mishima like this. It isn’t long until he falls asleep, basking in the comfortable warmth of his boyfriend pressed against him. When he wakes up the next morning to Mishima nuzzling his neck in his sleep, he can’t stop the smile spreading across his face. He is sore from sleeping in the same position all night, squashed on a tiny bed meant for one, but he can definitely get used to this.

Unfortunately, things do not work out the way he’d hoped. He is taken by surprise by Yusuke’s sudden appearance and ends up being swept along for the ride, and he loses sight of Mishima for the whole day. When he comes back to his room, he finds Mishima already on his phone and busy working on the phansite.

“Don’t tell me this is what you’ve been doing all day,” Akira says, but he already knows the answer.

“Well, I haven’t had the time to do any maintenance lately, and you guys have been really popular.” Mishima looks up after a while, his eyes tired but satisfied. “The posts have been blowing up, even now. There’s a lot of work to do.”

He launches into an update of the new polls he implemented, about the sudden rise in rankings, but Akira is only half listening. Akira knows of his boyfriend’s need to feel useful, the satisfaction he finds in helping the only way he can, but even so he can’t help but feel dismayed that Mishima has wasted his time in Hawaii trying to be useful to him.

“Yuuki,” he says, putting his hand on Mishima’s phone and firmly pressing it down. “You’re in Hawaii. Don’t worry about the phansite for now.”

Mishima opens his mouth in objection, but Akira braces an arm on the back of the chair and leans down. Their lips touch, Mishima’s mouth still slightly parted, and when Akira pulls back Mishima stares at him with stunned surprise.

“I would rather spend some time with you right now. What about you?” he drops his voice low, and just as expected, Mishima’s cheeks immediately flush a lovely shade of red.

“That’s…that’s not a fair question.” After a moment of hesitation, Mishima drops his phone on the table and reaches for him, timid but expectant, and he grasps Akira’s jacket and tugs him down. Just as they lean in for another kiss, a knock on their door interrupts them.

“What’s up?”

The force of Mishima’s shove takes Akira by surprise, and he stumbles backwards and catches himself on the bed before he falls. “Sorry! Sorry,” Mishima hisses, eyes wide with worry and already on his feet, “t-that surprised me.”

The knock continues, and Akira inwardly groans. The mood had been perfect before and Mishima had even been a little more daring than usual, but the interruption has snapped them out of it and now he’s a little irritable. “It’s Ryuji,” he mutters, “let’s not answer and maybe he’ll think we’re not here.”

“We can’t do that! Besides, it’s late. There isn’t anywhere else we’re supposed to be.” Mishima pats himself all over like as if the evidence of their moment of intimacy has somehow stained him, and he walks over to the door in awkward, guilty strides.

Ryuji comes in, none the wiser, and Akira tries desperately not to feel put off by Ryuji needing a place to stay. He has just resigned himself to having Ryuji around for the night when Ann comes knocking too. “I can’t get back in my room!” she says indignantly, and Akira pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes.

“There are only two beds, even if someone sleeps on the sofa,” Mishima says, and Ryuji frowns.

“One of us is gonna have to sleep on the floor.”

Akira snaps his head up at that. “No need for that,” he says, “I’ll share Mishima’s bed.”

They all turn their gazes on him, Mishima’s mouth falling open like a fish. “Huh?” Ann crosses her arms, shooting a dubious look at the beds. “These are small beds. You’re going to have trouble fitting there together.”

“No, we fit fine,” Akira says without a second thought, too quickly and too certain. Ryuji and Ann fall silent, their eyebrows rising high.

“H-he means, that’s what he thinks. Because I’m small!” Mishima blurts out, and fires a look at Akira. _Don’t say anymore, I’m begging you,_ his eyes say, and Akira snaps his mouth shut before he makes matters worse.

“Oh, I see. Dude, you sure surprised me there.” Ryuji settles himself on the sofa, examining Mishima. “Well, now that you mention it, you are pretty small.” Mishima lets out a forced laugh and looks at the floor.

“I guess it comes in handy,” he mumbles, and Akira has to pinch his leg to stop himself from saying _I like you just the way you are._

“I don’t know, I still think it’ll be uncomfortable.” Ann worriedly looks at Mishima. “Don’t force yourself, okay?”

“It’ll be fine, I think.” Mishima glances at Akira, his gaze shy but meaningful. “The bed is big enough. It won’t be comfortable, but we’ll fit. What do you think?”

Of course Akira agrees, this time making sure his voice doesn’t give him away. When the time for sleep comes, Mishima excuses himself to the bathroom. Akira listens to his friends chat about various things, feeling a little better. _This is nice too_ , he thinks _._ When the topic turns to his taste in women, he hesitates. It feels wrong to keep something so important to him as a secret from the friends he trusts his life with, but he knows Mishima isn’t ready yet to let them know.

“I don’t have a type,” he finally settles on, praying that Mishima isn’t listening from the bathroom. “I think if I like someone, that’s the person I’m going to like, with or without a type.”

Their conversation is interrupted by Mishima’s groan, and it takes them a few minutes to figure out what’s wrong. “He shouldn’t have drunk the tap water,” Ryuji grumbles as they wait for medicine at the front desk, but Akira is far too concerned to listen. Afterwards when Ann and Ryuji have fallen asleep, he wraps an arm around Mishima’s waist.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, and Mishima laughs weakly.

“I got nervous,” he answers, and though he doesn’t turn around he laces his fingers with Akira’s. “Thanks for getting the medicine.”

They fall silent for a while, listening to the sounds of Ryuji’s snoring and Ann’s deep breathing. “So, no type, huh?” Mishima says suddenly, his voice so quiet that Akira has to strain to hear. “How very diplomatic of you.”

“I like you, you know.” Akira squeezes Mishima tighter, but hurriedly loosens his grip at the sound of Mishima’s pained grunt. “Sorry. But I mean it. You’re my type.”

“You have terrible taste.”

Akira smiles at that. “And what about you, Yuuki? What about your type?”

“I have better taste than you. Far better.” Mishima pauses, and then continues. “It’s you, you know?”

Gods, it’s so stupid of him to fall for that, but the pounding in his chest almost hurts. He presses a quiet kiss on the curve of Mishima’s shoulder. “Let’s spend time together tomorrow,” he says, “just the two of us.” Mishima squeezes his fingers in reply.

But things aren’t going to work out on the last day either, Akira quickly discovers.

Ryuji gets a hold of them before they can slip out together, and in his determination to make memories in Hawaii, Mishima gets dragged off with him. Unwilling to lose even a bit of time with Mishima, Akira grudgingly agrees to tag along with Ryuji’s plan to pick up girls. At first the two of them are satisfied with watching Ryuji from a safe distance, but it isn’t long before Ryuji urges them to try. There is a strange, tight knot in Akira’s stomach as he watches Mishima attempt to talk to the scantily-clad girls, a strange tightness that doesn’t leave him for the whole day afterwards. When it’s his turn to try, he can feel Mishima’s gaze on his back as he talks to the women. Damn it, this isn’t what he wants at all, and his disinterest shows in his lackluster conversation.

“Try harder next time,” the women tell him before they leave, put off by his obvious half-hearted attempt, and Ryuji pats him on the back reassuringly.

 “It’s okay, man. Let’s try again.”

 _I’d much rather not actually,_ Akira thinks, and glances at Mishima. His boyfriend seems determined to stare at the ground with furrowed brows, and Akira swallows the tightness in his throat.

Their abject failure comes as a relief, even if he does feel a little bad for Ryuji. His biggest concern is Mishima, who has grown increasingly sullen and silent as the day went on. The tightness he feels in his stomach gives him an idea of how Mishima is feeling too, and he can’t help but feel guilty as they head back to their room together.

When they are alone, there is an awkward silence that hangs heavy around them. “Yuuki,” Akira starts, “you know I didn’t—”

“I know. Don’t worry about it,” Mishima interrupts, not meeting Akira’s eyes. “Anyway, we need to wake up early tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.”

He climbs into his bed and pulls the blankets above his head, and somehow Akira gets the feeling that Mishima wants to be left alone for tonight. For the first time since the trip started, Akira gets into his own bed for good and switches off the lights.

The tightness in his stomach doesn’t ease, and when he shuts his eyes all he can think about is Mishima talking to those women on the beach, Mishima’s determined gaze on the floor, Mishima’s eyes on his back, Mishima’s quiet voice. “I really just wanted to be alone with you,” he whispers out loud, more to himself than anything.

There is no response, and Akira releases a quiet sigh. A long while passes, and he is about to drift to sleep when he suddenly feels his blanket lifting. He jerks awake in a hurry, disoriented and alarmed, but when Mishima slides in next to him his heart leaps.

“Move over,” Mishima mumbles, and he obeys. A small, warm and familiar body presses against him, and Akira doesn’t dare speak in case he changes Mishima’s mind. They lie together in tense silence, and then Mishima finally speaks. “I really wanted to be alone with you too.”

Akira smiles, and he gains the courage to wrap his arms around the smaller boy without the fear of chasing him off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to go along with the plan, but Ryuji was so…”

“Desperate?” Mishima laughs quietly, and Akira’s heart squeezes at the sound. “I know. I felt bad for him too. But man, it wasn’t easy watching you pick up girls.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. You didn’t seem into it anyway. Which is good, you know, because I was right there watching.”

“I’m not interested in them.” Akira traces a kiss on Mishima’s forehead, warm and affectionate. “I’m interested in you.”

“I know. I’m your type, right?” Mishima looks up and gives him a small, shy smile. “You have terrible taste.”

Akira smiles slow, and he teases a lock of Mishima’s hair in between his fingers. “Bold, aren’t you,” he says, his tone low and seductive now, “for a person who is exactly my type, sliding into my bed and into my arms at this hour of the night.”

Mishima’s eyes widen at the change in his voice, but he doesn’t make a move to leave. Akira traces his thumb over the bottom of Mishima’s lip, their eyes locked together, and Mishima swallows thickly. “Uh,” he manages to say, “what about sleep?”

Akira hooks a finger under Mishima’s chin, lifts his face, and kisses him deep. Mishima shivers at his touch, and his fingers grip Akira’s pajama shirt. When their lips part, the dazed look on Mishima’s face is almost unfair. There is no way he will be able to sleep tonight. “I was jealous too, you know,” Akira murmurs against Mishima’s mouth. “It wasn’t easy for me to watch you pick up girls either.”

“Oh,” Mishima answers dumbly, still lost in the sensation of their kiss, “uhm, sorry about that.” It’s a half-hearted apology because his mind is elsewhere, but Akira decides to accept it anyway. He pulls Mishima back against him, fits their bodies together, and closes his eyes. Mishima’s warmth softens the tension in his body, soothes the tightness in his stomach, and yet it leaves an ache in his heart.

“I like you.” He waits, and when he doesn’t hear a reply he continues. “Call it terrible taste, but I know the way you make me feel.”

A few moments later, he feels a kiss press against his jaw. His eyes fly open at the unexpected kiss, but Mishima has already buried his face into his chest. “Thanks,” Mishima says. When he speaks again, his voice sounds weak, vulnerable, and yet certain. “I like you too.”

Akira’s breath catches in his throat. He knows, of course, that Mishima likes him, but it’s the first time he’s ever heard his boyfriend say it aloud. The ache in his heart grows stronger, and it hurts a little but it feels somewhat warm. Damn it, there is definitely no way he will be able to sleep tonight.

Things didn’t work out quite the way he’d wanted them to, he thinks as he holds Mishima close, but this is indeed a trip he will never forget.

* * *

 


End file.
